


A Malfoy with a lion tattoo

by yeahImprettyawesome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunkenness, Fluff, HP: EWE, Humor, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahImprettyawesome/pseuds/yeahImprettyawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a drunken dare, Draco Malfoy stumbles into Harry Potter’s tattoo parlour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Malfoy with a lion tattoo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmoppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmoppet/gifts).



> I wanted to write a huge plotty fic but I had no ideas at all; in the end I only managed to produce this pipsqueak of a fic. It’s basically a fluffy meet-cute story, with some pining thrown in. Agentmoppet, I hope you like it anyway. Many thanks to my beta for listening to my 2:00 am writer angst and bawling. <3 All remaining mistakes are mine. Many, many thanks to the mods for being patient with me.

By the time the War is over and all is said and done, Harry is _tired_ of being the Boy-Who-Lived and doing what is expected of him.

He figures that tattoos and piercings are about as far as one can get from the poster boy for all that is good and pure, so he gets himself inked: a massive design that spans across his chest. He gets a tongue piercing as well, just for the kicks.

That is as far as he expected his acquaintance with a tattoo parlour to go, honestly. But as the Muggle artist draws swirls on his skin with her needle, all he can think of is wanting to create such art by himself.

He admits himself under the tutelage of one of the best tattoo artists in London, and after two years of running him ragged, his master declares him ready to open his own shop. For another year, he experiments with charms on tattoos. Eventually, he opens up the British Wizarding World’s first tattoo parlour, all the time wondering why nobody else had thought of it.

Even with initial apprehension, his name on the board above the door soon draws in curious folk and some brave ones even become his customers.

Seven months in, ‘Magink’ is doing decent business; enough that he has to stay at the shop late into the evenings. One such time, when the clock is ticking steadily at half-past nine and he’s wrapping up for the day, the bell above the door chimes, signalling a customer.

Harry doesn’t even look up from the register as he says, “Sorry, we’re closed for the day. But you can come in tomorrow to get an appointment-” and then stops abruptly as he does finally see who has wandered in. So-pale-it-might-as-well-be-white blond hair and pointy features that Harry has seen only on magazine covers these past few years are before him in the flesh as Draco Malfoy stands before him.

Malfoy looks around in slight confusion, and it’s clear that he is sloshed out of his mind from the way he’s swaying gently in place.

“Pottah!” Malfoy grins stupidly when he catches sight of Harry-further proof that Malfoy is inebriated; he’d never smile like that upon seeing Harry, if he was sober.

“How may I help you, Malfoy?” Harry asks in a polite, detached tone. 

“I want a tattoo.” Malfoy declares.

That makes Harry stop in his tracks. He knows that Malfoy is a model, and the old school companies he works for will definitely not appreciate Malfoy getting inked in a drunken haze. No, a tattoo would not do wonders for his career. Not that Harry still keeps track of what Draco Malfoy is doing with his life these days or anything.

So he asks, “You want a what?” just to be sure he’s heard right.

“A tattoo.” Malfoy says again, this time more firmly. 

Harry snorts. “No way. I don’t work on drunk people.”

Malfoy staggers forward, almost tripping on his own feet, getting in Harry’s face. “Why? Shc-scared, Potter?” He leers.

“We’re not in school anymore, Malfoy. I won’t fall for that.” Malfoy looks put out by Harry’s reply.

“Tattoo me.” He demands. “No.” Harry flings back. This continues for a while and Malfoy’s clamours threaten to bring down his store. In the middle of their one-sided squabble that consists of Malfoy trying to rile him up, a wicked scheme strikes Harry. After all, he hasn’t spent all these years with Fred and George to learn nothing.

“Fine.” He cuts Malfoy of suddenly. “You want a tattoo? Sit.” He gestures to an empty chair. Malfoy looks too pleased with himself as he plops down and makes himself comfortable.

“Where do you want it?” Harry asks. “Hm?” Malfoy replies intelligently and Harry grits his teeth. “The tattoo; where do you want it?”

“Back of the shoulder.” Harry nods and prepares the antiseptic on a cotton swab. Malfoy fumbles with his robes for quite a while before smooth, porcelain-pale skin is revealed. Harry almost feels bad about marring the skin as he rubs the cotton on Malfoy’s shoulder.

“What kind of tattoo do you want?” Harry questions. With Malfoy’s ambiguous answer of “anything’s good,” he picks up a sharpie lying nearby and begins to draw.

He does not expect to hear contented sighs as he sketches. Nevertheless, Harry forges on. But the sighs soon turn into kittenish mewls, and Harry has to stop for a second to calm himself down and discourage the stirring of some very unprofessional reactions. By the time he is done, Malfoy has graduated to drawn out moans and Harry’s sporting red cheeks and a raging hard on.

“Ahem. We’re done.” Harry announces as he all but springs away from Malfoy. Malfoy blinks owlishly. “Already?”

“Yeah. Now, leave.” Harry orders. “Floo’s over there.” He adds as an afterthought and jerks his thumb towards the fireplace. Thankfully, it seems that the alcohol induced lethargy is finally upon Malfoy, as he doesn’t argue and stumbles blearily to the fireplace and with a few mumbled words, disappears in a flash of green.

Harry sighs, even as a grin spreads across his face. There will be Hell to pay tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. Plus, it’ll mean Malfoy will return to his store. He decides not to think too much about why he wants that to happen.

* * *

Draco wakes up with a headache that seems like a thousand goblins stomping on the inside of his skull. He burrows under the blankets, chasing a few more minutes of sleep, but it evades him and he sits up with a groan. Then he regrets it as the pounding in his head increases tenfold. He reaches out and grabs a vial of hangover potion he keeps in his nightstand.

After his headache subsides enough, he moves to the bathroom and that’s when he sees it; it’s huge and red absolutely wrong. Draco stares in horror at the Gryffindor crest, prominently displayed on the back of his shoulder. He rubs at the skin to no avail, the tattoo doesn’t budge. He tries all of his fancy soaps and rubs his skin raw but the offending art remains, taunting him. 

He feels like he’s been branded as Defeated, Draco sinks into his bathtub and attempts figure out what happened last night and who he’s going to kill.

* * *

_“Another round!” Blaise calls to the barkeep, even though he really shouldn’t; they are all pretty hammered._

_“Let’s play Truth or Dare!” Pansy suggests amidst a fit of giggles, and their Slytherin party cheers. “Okay! Let’s start with...” Pansy’s finger lingers indecisively in the air for a moment. “Draco!” She proclaims with triumph._

_Draco scoffs. “I’m not playing such a childish game.” Pansy pouts._

_“Please Dray? It’s my birthday!” She whines as she hangs off of him._

_It’s a testament to how lowered Draco’s inhibitions are when he goes along with Pansy’s painfully obvious act. He sighs his acquiescence and resigns himself to a horrible fate. A charm is cast to prevent the players to get away with lying and the attention is turned towards Draco._

_“Truth or dare?” Pansy asks with a grin, no sign of her earlier dejection._

_“Dare.” Draco says without hesitation. Knowing his housemates, if he chooses truth, Draco will have to reveal something utterly humiliating. A dare, however, wouldn’t be as bad._

_One look at Pansy and Blaise’s matching shit-eating grins tells him he’s wrong. “Then, dear Draco,” Blaise purrs. “I dare you to…” Draco holds his breath. “Get a tattoo.”_

_“What? I’m not doing that!” Draco splutters._

_“Too bad, you have to.” Blaise informs him unhelpfully._

_“Come on,” Pansy joins in. “We’re being generous here Draco, you can get any sort of tattoo you want!”_

_And Draco knows his friends are doing this on purpose, because they are right bastards. Just because he often occasionally talks about Potter doesn’t mean he wants to see him._

* * *

_His loud protests are ignored and he is offered Firewhisky shots for ‘courage’. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth drink, Draco becomes pliant enough to cease his grumbling, but not shit-faced enough to pass out. Then he is Apparated, side-along to the door of Harry Bloody Potter’s shop. His terrible friends leave him there with chuckled good lucks and encouraging nudges._

* * *

“Potter!” An enraged voice calls out and Harry knows who it is even without looking up.

“Yes, Malfoy?” He asks with an impish smile; as he predicted, Malfoy is furious. 

“Remove this atrocity from my body right now!” He demands, and Harry shuts up the traitorous part of him that thinks that Malfoy looks attractive even with his frown and lips curved downward.

“I remember you being eager to get a tattoo last night.” Harry teases, even though he knows he shouldn’t and Malfoy sneers. 

“I would never ask for a Gryffindor tattoo.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you recall the events of last night and what kind of tattoo you asked for?” Harry asks with false pleasantry.

Draco glares. As much as he’d like to say ‘yes’ with conviction, he doesn’t remember and getting a Gryffindor crest tattooed on himself does sound like something that his plastered, emotional, secretly-carrying-a-torch-for-Potter self would do. So he settles for ignoring Potter's question with a snarl of, “Just get rid of the damn thing already!”

“Sorry. It’s permanent.” He hears Potter say and his jaw drops. But before he can burst from aggravation, Potter is laughing uproariously. It takes some time before he stops and says with tears of laughter in his eyes, “Oh, the look on your face!” Then his smile turns into something warmer. “Relax Malfoy. It’s just a Sharpie drawing. Sit down, it’ll be gone in seconds.”

Draco is so relieved that he doesn’t even ask what in Merlin’s name a ‘Sharpie’ is, and busies himself with removing his robes.

Seeing his art on Malfoy’s skin does strange things to Harry’s stomach even as he wipes it away with acetone. The cool liquid makes Malfoy shiver beneath his hands, and Harry tries not to thing other situations where this might be the case.

When he announces that they’re done, Malfoy looks over his shoulder suspiciously. Satisfied that the red and gold crest is really gone, he refastens his robes.

Harry expects Malfoy to leave as soon as he can, but to his surprise, he lingers. After a long moment of awkward silence. Malfoy asks, “So Potter, why’d you do it-or rather, not do it?”

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?”

“The tattoo, Potter. You could have made a permanent one or something humiliating. Why didn’t you?”

Harry scoffs. “I’m not a complete git, Malfoy. I know you’d get shit at your job for it.” He turns his face away, but Draco notices the faint blush on his cheeks. 

“Huh. Well, thank you, I guess.” Draco says and turns to leave, but stops at the door and makes an abrupt spin. “Say, Potter?”

“Hm?”

“How about I treat you to lunch tomorrow? For, you know-not being a git.” Draco offers, staring down at the floor and then instantly hates himself for asking because why would Potter want to lunch with _him_ of all people he sounds so _stupid_ and any moment now Potter will _laugh_ -

“Is that a date, Malfoy?” Potter’s amused voice cuts through Draco’s thoughts and he looks up to find him smirking at him. Draco turns red but forces the words out of his throat. “It could be.”

Potter’s smirk turns into a full on beaming, then. “It’s a date Malfoy.”

xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/55503.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at [hd_erised @ livejournal.com](http://hd_erised.livejournal.com/). The author will be revealed January 8th.


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